


Extrication

by murdur



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kidnapped Sif, Sifki Week 2019, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 07:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19988302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdur/pseuds/murdur
Summary: The planet Pangoria is small and savage, home to the worst, most ruthless space pirates. There are few people that Loki would ever step foot in this particular galaxy for, much less purposefully seek out their worst inhabitants and strike up an agreement with their leader. But for her, he’s done it without question, without hesitation, and quite frankly against all sensible reason.





	Extrication

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lite_Reads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lite_Reads/gifts).



> Written for Sifki Week Day 6: Ties.
> 
> This was inspired by [a tumblr post](https://psychoticgirl.tumblr.com/post/136994056851/ladylaufeyson1-caption-this) and conversation with led-lite. Most of this was Lauren's headcanon!

It’s been nearly two months. Two long, agonizing months. But he knows that if he had pushed things forward, tried to rush it, the whole deal would have been in jeopardy. 

But finally he has it. Tonight is the night. 

Taking one final, steadying breath in the dark alleyway, Loki knocks on the steel door. A slot is pulled back and a pair of dark eyes peer out at him, waiting. Waving a hand, Loki magics a vial from one of his hidden pockets, holding the glowing purple liquid inside up between two slim fingers.

“And the rest?”

“Will be shown to the proper, _paying_ , party once I’m off the street,” Loki snarls cooly. The slot slams back shut and for a moment his pulse freezes. But the sound of grinding metal follows and the door is cracked open. Loki grins and steps into the dim room. The doorman leads him down the familiar hallway, past a rowdy tavern bar crowded with seedy drunks and into a back room. The dim room is made dimmer by smoke, and it smells of sweat and stench. Loki follows the bodyguard to the middle of the room until they reach the edge of a table where a group appears to be playing some sort of card game. 

“Captain,” the bodyguard alerts the man sitting at the head of the table. 

“Ah, Mr. Loki!” the man he calls out. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Yes,” Loki nods, unable to return the sentiment. The captain reminds him a bit of Fandral, if Fandral lost half his teeth to rot and neglected to bathe for a decade or two. The crew that subtly rise from their chairs and move around the room, surrounding Loki, aren’t much cleaner, and no less blood thirsty than their leader.

The planet Pangoria is small and savage, home to the worst, most ruthless space pirates. There are few people that Loki would ever step foot in this particular galaxy for, much less purposefully seek out their worst inhabitants and strike up an agreement with their leader. But for her, he’s done it without question, without hesitation, and quite frankly against all sensible reason.

Sif.

After a failed mission, a mission that he was supposed to have been on but had made some pathetic excuses to get out of, and apparent capture on Achernon, apparently Sif was found to be highly valuable on the black market and any sort of trail was nearly impossible to find. 

Most of the informants he’d been able to track down in ship junkyards and galactic pubs had not been willing to talk without hefty compensation, and he had already spent a considerable amount of the Crown’s wealth before his intel pointed him here, to this planet, to this room, to this pirate. 

When he’d brought the information after weeks of searching to the throne, asking for an army to assist him, Odin had forbidden it, stating that the risk to the Realm Eternal and to other warriors’ lives was not worth the trade off of one life. That his information was unreliable at best, and a dangerous set-up at worst. His father had turned his back on him. On _her._

His mother had touched his cheek, a sad knowing in her eyes, and pressed her own favored dagger into his palm before following her husband out of the room. 

And so he stands here now, months later, and alone. At the end of an intergalactic recovery mission that involved convincing this crew that he too was space scum, willing to do nearly anything to line his pockets and get ahead in the cold, cut-throat corners of the darkest galaxies. And it all hinges on this moment.

“To tell you the truth,” the Pangorian leans back in his chair and picks at his teeth with a dirty fingernail, “I didn’t exactly 'spect to see you alive again, considering the dangerous items you assured us you could steal. Don’t get me wrong, mind, I cannot wait to see it.”

“Shall we?” Loki smiles at the captain and represses the urge to leap across the table and break his neck. _Patience,_ he reminds himself. He has to be certain that she is here. That she is safe. 

He plays the part, pretending that he is only here to do this. It takes time, and Loki makes a show of it. Pulling first the vial from his pocket, and then the bilgesnipe antlers, the Anulax batteries, and so on. The pirates watch without much interest or enthusiasm until he produces the most hard won prizes; Kree weaponry. The murmurs and whistles of approval grow when he places the shapeshifting armor, cloaking device, and an outlawed organic-destroying blaster onto the table.

Internally, he imagines blowing the place apart as they celebrate their greed and filth. But he knows that puts everything at risk. So instead he smiles and accepts the captain’s praise. 

“A troublemaker you are!” the captain laughs in delight. “You sure you don’t want to join up with us? We could use a knave of your likes.”

“No, thank you,” Loki can hardly hide his disgust. “Just my treasure and I’ll be more than content.”

“O’course, o’course,” the captain waves to his crew and stacks of coins, bills, jewels, and trinkets stack up before him on the table. “There you be, son.” 

“And the... servant?” Loki recoils at his words. He does not want to appear too eager and tip them off, it was already a delicate process negotiating one of their best kept secrets, a genuine Asgardian warrior, into his winning loot without sparking suspicion. 

The Pangorian laughs. “You can say slave, boy. No need to for all that fancy talk here, you ain’t offending nobody.”

Loki smiles, trying his best to match the devious, disgusting grins that surround him. His stomach feels sick with rage. He bows in consent. “Of course. And the slave?”

The captain’s black grin slides off his face, turning into an exaggerated pout. “I was hoping youse’d forgot about that. She’s such a pretty thing I was hoping to keep her for myself.”

“She?” Loki asks with his best feigned surprise. The excitement he feels makes it easy. So his information was good, everything will be worth it soon.

“Don’t go being discriminatory now, she’s tougher than most Kronans. Took a long time to break her of some stubbornness, mind.” He leans forward in his seat, one finger stroking his dirty beard thoughtfully. “The more I think about it, the less I want to let that one go.”

Loki’s heart races but he does his best to keep his cool, shrugging with indifference and gingerly lifting the large blaster off the table and making to send it back into his pocket. “Well then, I suppose you mustn’t be needing this.”

“Alright alright,” the pirate throws up his hands. “You’re no fun, I was only joking.”

He motions a summoning gesture with two fingers and three of his crew rush from the room, returning moments later with a large black bag carried between them. Shuffling around to Loki’s side of the table, they toss the bag down near his feet with a heavy thud.

Loki lifts one boot and nudges the fabric of the bag. Whatever is inside feels solid and very angry. But he has to make sure.

“May I?” Loki inquires, nearly combusting from being so close.

“You don’t trust me?” the captain pouts again. When Loki doesn’t respond he sighs and flaps a hand. “G’on then.”

Holding his breath and trying to control his hands from shaking, Loki bends slowly over at the waist and pulls the zipper back in one swift motion and then rights himself quickly. The body inside is tied-up, bound at the wrists and ankles, mouth covered with dirty cloth, and naked. Thrashing and growling to be free, the body tumbles out onto the dirty floor, shaking dark hair away to better see what threatens it now, feral in its anger.

When the furious, golden-green gaze lands on the man standing stock still in deep verdant leathers above the bag, recognition lights in her eyes and the fight goes out of her.

_Sif._

She is alive. She looks at him with questioning but he gives a slight shake of his head. _Not yet._ He doesn’t trust himself in that moment, the relief of seeing her again mixes violently with the guilt of not being able to prevent this situation. If only he had been there. Afraid of opening his mouth or unleashing his emotions, he instead walks a slow, deliberate circle around her, inspecting his prize. Bruises and blood paint her pale skin, some appearing fresher than others. Her wrists look raw from the ties, welts crisscross her back, and her hair is a mess, but she appears to be otherwise physically intact. He can only hope that her mental scars can be as easily soothed and feels his own rage grow with each step. He wants to pull the sky down upon their heads, make them all suffer what they deserve. His control is slipping, but he holds on and faces the captain when he speaks again. 

“Figured that would be the best way to show off her strength and her...spirit,” the pirate raises a bottle to his lips and takes a long pull. “Satisfied?”

Loki looks down, his angry breath making his nostrils flare, to where Sif is bound and his feet. She meets his gaze and appears calm, serene, and even with the fabric at her mouth, a smile pulls at her lips. Loki smiles too and nods.

“Good,” the captain rises from his chair and makes his way around the table with an outstretched hand. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Oh, I assure you,” Loki takes his hand with a smile and shakes, “the pleasure will be mine.” Then he pulls the man closer with a hard yank and bares his teeth, with his free hand he materializes his mother’s blade and drives it into the captor’s neck.

Before the body has hit the floor, Loki lets his rage unleash, dissolving Sif’s ties and sending bodies to crash across the room as the magic pulses from him hot and fast. 

Sif stands, pulling the cloth from her mouth and kicking the bag across the floor. Picking up the Kree gun, he tosses it to her and then retrieves his blade, wiping away the blood. Sif considers the large gun for a moment and then tries out the trigger on the charging pirate crew, vaporizing them instantly. She grins at him.

“Good to see you, Loki.”


End file.
